


stomach bug

by tea_at_twilight_time



Series: twily's tma hurt/comfort week fics [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Non-Sexual Age Play, Sickfic, The Magnus Archives Hurt/Comfort Week, Vomiting, but martin's on his way to being adopted into the family, get over here buddy lmao, hey guys. it's me. absdjflahsdlkf, the age regression isn't as major as it is in my other fics ngl, this takes place in a vague point in season one, tim and sasha are jon's pre-established cgs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26137510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_at_twilight_time/pseuds/tea_at_twilight_time
Summary: jon gets sick in the cot at document storage. uh oh.(written for tma hurt/comfort week day three, based loosely on the prompts sickfic + misunderstanding + overwhelmed)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker, background jon & tim & sasha
Series: twily's tma hurt/comfort week fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908121
Comments: 6
Kudos: 102





	stomach bug

**Author's Note:**

> y'all know that meme that was mildly popular a while ago about being a kid and having to go tell your parents that you threw up in the bed? 
> 
> yeah

“I-I think I’m going to go lay down.” 

Martin looks up, startled at the sound of Jon’s voice, and even more startled at the state the man is in. He looks ashen, his knees wobbling as he stands in front of his desk, and Martin suddenly feels the intense desire to rush over to him and hold him upright. 

He fights that desire, because that would be rude, and he’s pretty sure Jon would bite him if he propped him up unexpectedly. He’s seen him do it to Tim before. “That’s fine,” he says awkwardly, unsure of what else to say. Jon seems to be expecting a response. “You seem like you need it.” 

Jon nods, and then winces, giving him a guilty look. “It’s, um. They’re your sheets. Is that fine? I-I can switch them out—” 

“Oh!” Martin says quickly, cutting him off. “That’s—that’s alright, Jon. Don’t worry about it. Just—just get some rest, okay?” 

Jon nods slightly, biting his lip. He trudges off toward document storage, and Martin watches after him. He heaves a heavy sigh and sets back to work, trying to put his nervous energy into something productive. 

* * *

Jon’s in there for about an hour before coming back into the archives. 

He stumbles audibly to the door, causing Martin and Tim (who’d joined him in the meantime) to lift their heads before he’s even in sightline. He collapses against one of the walls, somehow looking even more disheveled than before, loose strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and dark shadows bruising the space under his eyes. His pupils dart around the room before finally, they settle on the two of them, and his shoulders slump in what could be either relief or shame (or both). He directs his eyes firmly down at the floor and coughs, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“I, uh...I…” he starts, and he swallows thickly, running a hand through his hair. 

“Something wrong?” Tim asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Um…” Jon swallows again, pressing the heel of his palm into his eye socket. “I-I got sick.” 

“Oh.” Tim’s brow furrows, and he shares a glance with Martin. “Like, you threw up?” 

“Um. Yes.” Jon scrubs at his eyes, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Martin stares at him in concern, trying to figure out why he’s telling them this. Jon isn’t really the type to admit when he gets sick or doesn’t feel well, he’s gathered that much from Sasha and Tim’s stories, as well as the behavior of the man himself. There must be something else that’s bothering him if he’s coming to them about this. 

Tim seems to have had the same thought process. He shoots Martin another look, before he asks, “Jon, are you...do you need to be in headspace?” 

Jon bristles, shaking his head quickly. However, that must make him dizzy, because he anxiously puts a hand over his stomach. “No, no it’s not that, it’s…” 

He shivers, letting out a little whimper. Despite denying his need to regress, he seems to be teetering dangerously toward littleness anyway. 

“I threw up on the blankets,” he finally admits, after a moment of anxious swaying. “It’s, uh. It’s really really bad. I’m, I’m sorry Martin, I…” 

His face crumples but he tries to smooth it out, taking in a deep breath. Martin quickly raises his hands, waving them in a way he hopes is reassuring. 

“I-it’s okay!” he says, and even though the idea of his sheets being covered in vomit is...mildly upsetting, right now he’s a bit more worried by Jon’s glassy eyes and frazzled appearance. “Really, Jon, it’s fine. I’m, ah, guessing you need some help cleaning up then?” 

Jon nods, and then sways dangerously to the side. Tim straightens up on his feet, prepared to leap forward if need be. Thankfully, though, Jon seems to be able to steady himself, bracing himself back against the wall to keep his trembling legs from collapsing. He shakes his head, takes another deep breath, and lets out a tiny sound of distress. 

“It’s just...it’s just too much right now, a-and I…” Jon starts, and then his eyes quickly go from watery to outright tearful. “I-I’m sorry, I would’ve just cleaned it up myself, I really would’ve, b-but I…” 

His breath hitches, and his face scrunches up, his shoulders trembling with held back sobs. He seems...incredibly small right now. Martin turns to Tim, waiting to see what his response is. 

“Hey, hey. It’s alright, chicken nugget,” is what Tim says, holding his hands out placatingly, palms down. He gives a goofy smile, and pointedly does not meet Martin’s eyes when he looks at him incredulously. “You’re okay. Just take a deep breath, alright?” 

Jon squints, seeming almost perplexed out of his tears by the weird nickname. Almost. 

But then, his face crumples again, and he digs his knuckles into his eyes and lets out a soft sob. “Sorry, s-sorry,” he says, his voice painfully quiet. He tries to control his breaths, but they all come out shaky. He seems to be getting more and more upset by the second. “Nn, ‘m..’m s-s-so tired, an’, an’ h-hur’s…!” 

He sounds...very much like a toddler. A very teary, upset toddler, and Martin pushes himself up to his feet to rush over to him. Tim seems to have the same idea, and he manages to get to Jon’s side before Martin can, wrapping an arm around his waist before he can topple over. 

“Here, buddy,” he croons, gently pulling him close. “I got you, it’s okay.” He picks him up and sets him on his hip like it’s nothing, and then he presses the palm of his hand to his forehead. “Oof, you’re a bit warm…” 

Jon whimpers, dropping his head against Tim’s shoulder. Martin takes a few hesitant steps forward, and he gives Jon a light pat on the shoulder. _He is a bit hot,_ he thinks worriedly. 

“Maybe we should take his temperature,” Martin says gently, rubbing little circles against Jon’s arm. “I’ll, ah. Take care of the sheets, so he can lay down again.” 

Jon whimpers at that, but Tim shushes him, adjusting him higher on his hip. “That sounds like a plan,” he says lightly, giving Martin a small, apologetic smile. “Thanks, man.” 

“Ah, it’s—it’s nothing, really,” Martin says, giving Jon’s arm a light pat before letting his hand fall. He receives a side eye for his transgression of breaking contact, and he smiles apologetically, promising, “I’ll be back soon, Jon.” 

Jon huffs, staring at him with wide eyes. Tim rubs his back soothingly, whisking him toward his desk. 

“Let’s get your temperature taken, pups,” he says lightly. 

Martin watches them for a moment, before turning and heading off to document storage. 

* * *

One gathering of laundry and wipe of the floor later, Jon is settled back into the little cot, starting to drift off once again. Tim sits next to him, stroking sweaty strands of hair off of his forehead and cradling his hand loosely in his own. 

“Poor thing,” Martin says quietly, watching his tiny chest rise and fall. 

“Yeah…” Tim murmurs, leaning forward to kiss his temple. “Poor thing indeed.” 

“Did you take his temperature?” 

“Yeah, yeah I did. He’s running a low fever, so I’m gonna make sure we get him a doctor’s appointment.” 

Jon makes a whiny noise, and Tim presses another kiss to his forehead. Martin smiles faintly, shifting his weight uncomfortably. He can’t help but feel out of place here, watching the two of them. 

“You probably caught the flu from your mama, didn’t ya?” Tim murmurs, letting out a little chuckle. “Told you not to climb in the bed with her, but, well, I guess neither of us have the heart to say no to you. At least not about that.” He turns to Martin, giving him a lopsided smile. “Er, hopefully you don’t get sick too? I know you sleep here…” 

Martin waves his hand, letting out a weak laugh. “I suppose I’ll just disinfect everything when you guys are ready to go,” he says. 

“I can—I can help with that,” Tim says, wincing slightly. “He, uh. He seemed off this morning, I probably should’ve pushed harder to keep him home. He’s, y’know. Stubborn.” 

Jon shifts, letting out a low whine. Tim’s smile turns soft, and he scratches lightly at his scalp. 

“Oh, I know, honey. I know,” he murmurs, entangling his fingers in Jon’s hair. He looks back up at Martin, his eyes soft. “I’m gonna take him to Sasha’s during lunch. I already texted her about it, she says she’s well enough to look after him for now.” 

“A-alright,” Martin says, wrapping his arms around himself loosely. “Er, thank you for letting me know.” 

“Yeah, of course! I mean, you care about him as much as both of us do,” Tim says lightly. “It only seems fair to keep you updated and all.” 

Martin flushes, running his fingers through his hair and clearing his throat. “Y-yeah,” he says, not knowing how else to respond to that. Instead, he adds, “We should, er. Probably go back to work for now…” 

“Oh.” Tim looks back down at Jon consideringly, like he hadn’t thought of that. “Yeah. Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I mean, he is asleep, it’s not like he’ll really notice we’re gone...” 

“Yeah,” Martin agrees. 

Neither of them move to leave, however. 

“What if he _does_ wake up again, though?” Tim asks conversationally, as Jon’s breathing falls into soft snores next to him. “I just...you know. I don’t want him to be alone, especially if he’s going to get sick again.” 

“R-right. That makes sense,” Martin says, unfolding his arms and getting ready to leave the two alone. “I can—” 

“We should both be here, really,” Tim interrupts, gesturing to the chair next to the door. “Just in case something happens and we need all hands on deck.” He looks at Martin pleadingly. “Right?” 

Martin offers a small smile, even as he shakes his head. “Tim, someone has to do work right now…” 

“Pssh. Really? I’m sure it can wait,” Tim says, rolling his eyes. Then, his gaze drops back to Jon’s sleeping form, and his face softens. “C’mon, look at that little face…” 

Martin hesitates, shifts from foot to foot. Then, finally, he sighs. “Alright,” he says, grabbing the chair and pulling up next to the cot. “Alright, I’ll stay.” 

“Thank you,” Tim says with a smile, moving his hand to accommodate when Jon shifts his head a little. “I’ll need someone to talk to, since the little one’s out cold…” 

Martin huffs out a laugh, propping his chin in his hand. “I’m sure you do,” he says lightly. 

But they don’t say anything for a while. Instead, they just watch over Jon as he sleeps, an easy quiet falling over them. 

**Author's Note:**

> this is kinda late but honestly all of the prompts i'm responding to are going to be late cuz of work and. i didn't plan ahead asdhflkasdjflk. 
> 
> i'm probably only going to do thursday through saturday's prompts since i didn't really have ideas for the others? i know i don't technically have to use them but i,, kinda decided to do this at the last minute and i really only did that because of the fact that a few of the prompts caught my interest, haha. idk i just felt like i should explain my thought process even though most of you probably aren't super pressed about it :'D 
> 
> anyway i believe that littles with multiple caregivers should always have at least one that gives goofy nicknames and in this case tim is that caregiver thank you and goodnight jKLFJDSL


End file.
